


On the Museum Island (girl!Mark/Eduardo)

by ohnvm



Series: Wait a Minute 'Verse. [2]
Category: Social Network (2010)
Genre: F/M, Genderswap, girl!Mark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-02
Updated: 2011-10-02
Packaged: 2017-10-24 17:30:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/266044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohnvm/pseuds/ohnvm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spanning post-Wait a Minute timeline. Some weddings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Museum Island (girl!Mark/Eduardo)

**Author's Note:**

> [**rumpledlinen**](http://rumpledlinen.livejournal.com/) whom I promised to write a girl!Mark fic for (which I haven't written yet, sorry D:), HAPPY BIRTHDAY. Hope these little post-[Wait a Minute](http://ohnvm.livejournal.com/91002.html) wotsits are enough to make up for the yet-to-be-written genderswap fic.

**_Eric and Marilyn_**.

  
"Mark, I don't know why we're doing this, we're _married_ ," Eduardo whinges, pouting from behind the wheel of Mark's car as she surreptitiously stalks for any sign of movement.

Mark sighs and tries not to dickpunch something. "Because we wouldn't be married without them, Wardo. We owe them something and I hate owing other people somethings"

It's three days after Marilyn basically went to work with eyebags the size of an entire luggage, glaring at Mark like she killed every fluffy animal in the world. Mark tried to corner Marilyn after a particularly harrowing meeting with the legal team about more people trying to claim an percentage ownership in the shares. The latest one is from someone who Mark apparently once talked to in Japan. Mark's never been to Japan, fuck's sake.

"Delpy, do you have a problem?"

"YOUR FACE!" She screamed with all the grace and apt wit of a female attorney. Mark contemplates on asking Amy about it but Amy is in France and Mark thinks it's probably not good to ask someone's best friend deets about their best friend's woes like a breach of privacy or something.

Mark of course went ahead and trolled through her resources (and by resources, she means hacking into Eric's account because she _can_ ).

So apparently something happened and that something is the reason why Eric is living in a motel not an hour away from the apartment he shares (lives in) with Marilyn. Mark traces the IP.

"Will this involve fake sex in the restroom because I'm opposed to that," Eduardo warns when Mark finally spotted Eric stumbling up the first steps towards the hallway leading to the room he's been renting.

Mark chooses to ignore Eduardo in favour of running out her car and jumping on Eric's back.

He screams with a pitch not known to anyone with a penis.

Mark wishes she recorded that.

"WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM, ZUCKERBERG"

"My face, apparently." Mark says after Eduardo ran out to stop Eric from throwing Mark to the ground like a wrestler. "What is _yours_?! Why are you not home?"

Eric snorts. "I have no home!"

"A plus on the drama, Albright,"

"Sorry, Saverin, be right back, flying to New York because I'm afraid of Mark"

Eduardo snorts in disbelief. "You're in a _motel_ that looks like it came from Amityville. I was in Four Seasons."

"Maybe. But I took your wife's virginity so—"

Mark makes a frustrated noise. "SHUT THE FUCK UP," both their jaws snap shut and they share horrified looks before pretending not to have shared horrified looks over the fact that Mark just _shouted_. "Okay, good. Now, we'll go back to Palo Alto and fix this like grown adults."

"No, I'm not going back where _she_ is"

"Mature, Albright"

" _Fuck's_ sake!" Mark removes her heels and lobs her left shoe at Eduardo and her right shoe at Eric. "I have been awake for more than forty eight hours. I have a company to run and a son to breastfeed. So you two. IN THE CAR. Now."

"I have to take my stu—"

Mark opens the trunk of her Hybrid and shows Eric the entirety of the garbage and dirty clothes that accumulated on the floor of the motel room. It's nice to have enough mojo to bribe motel managers with. Even nicer when said motel manager and her husband carried the shit to the trunk themselves.

Eric rolls his eyes but proceeds to the backseat.

  
—

  
"This isn't awkward," Eric says a while later when Eduardo decided to stop over a small undistinguishable diner to discuss strategy.

"Not at all," Eduardo huffs after swallowing a huge bite of burger. "You're only sitting with your ex girlfriend and her husband."

"My ex girlfriend whose virginity I to—"

"Don't _start_." Mark grounds out before it escalades to another round of snarkage. "Eric. What is your problem?"

"Yo—"

"If you say anything other than something that involves the reason why Marilyn has eyebags that should be on conveyor belts, I will peel off your foreskin"

Eric looks torn for a second then relents and starts slamming his forehead on the table. No one stops him.

"It's just so _frustrating_ sometimes. I don't know what she wants from me but I know I want to give her whatever she wants from me"

Eduardo looks like he's about to chortle so Mark hastily reaches under the table and squeezes his crotch a little too tight for comfort.

"That is the most disgusting sentence I've ever heard from you, Eric. That includes the time you told me about your nipples. You know you should just—do you want to be with Delpy?"

Eric stops slamming his forehead on the table to give her a small nod.

Mark throws her hands up in frustration. "Then why not go home?"

"Because it's not _home_ , Marcella. Don't you see? We got high once and I asked her if she plans on getting married and she snorted and told me she doesn't plan on getting married"

"You want to ma—"

"Have you actually asked her?" Surprisingly, it's Eduardo who asks this. Mark lets go of his crotch and places her hand on his knee.

"Weren't you _listening_? I just said I asked—"

"I meant did _you_ ask _her_? Did you ask _will you want to marry me_ specifically?"

Mark pats Eduardo's knee but stays silent, sipping on Eduardo's cup of coffee in need of something to keep her up when it's four in the fucking morning. Mark can still go on code binges but she has a kid she takes care of _hands on_ so that means waking up early every morning to make baby formulas.

"No, but I don't—"

"See _that_ is where you made a mistake. Ask her. Specifically."

Eric squints his eyes and glares at him. "Right, cos you know so much about the ladies"

Eduardo raises his left hand and shows off his ring. " _Man up_ , Albright."

  
—

  
They spend the next day walking around looking for rings. Mark is more or less leaning her entire weight against Eduardo's side as he and Eric bond over the rings that matches Marilyn's _personality_. Mark takes a second to mull over the thought of Eduardo possibly thinking of Mark's _personality_ when he picked her ring (white gold with Facebook-blue diamond). It's a nice thought, Eduardo thinking of her.

Eduardo helps Eric apologise to Marilyn then throws all the shit from their trunk on the pavement in front of their apartment.

Later, Eric invites Eduardo and Mark to lunch. Tommy, their son, is fast asleep on the pram. Eduardo fails not to look smug when Eric tells them Marilyn said _yes_ but sounds incredibly sincere when he congratulates Eric.

"You know," Eric says in between shoving a 200 dollar steak in his mouth. "You're not so bad, Saverin."

"You too, Albright? Albrecht? Alpaca?"

"I still took Mark's virgini—"

Mark pulls out a mace from her pocket. Eric shuts up.

  
 ** _Dustin_**.

  
"Mark, would you do me the honour of being my best man?"

Mark spits out the pizza she's been chewing on. "Dustin, _what_?"

"Best man. You."

"Okay, first of all, just because I'm not showing my cleavage twenty four seven doesn't mean I went back to being a man. Second of all, best man at _what_?"

"My wedding."

"You can't marry your right hand, Dustin."

Dustin pouts down his pizza. "Lisa, Mark. You know, that girl from Google. The one Tommy vomited at when he was two years old, you know, _two_ years ago."

"No, but I thought Lisa's just your friend?"

"She is. But we're getting married. She asked me to."

"She _proposed_?" _She_ proposed?"

"What? You're the advocate of doing things differently, asshole. Your husband slammed your laptop then proposed. Don't be a hypocrite."

Mark fails not to roll her eyes. "Fine."

"Fine," Dustin mock-echoes. But he's smiling from ear to ear.

  
—

  
Mark's never a crier at weddings. Actually, Mark's never a crier. Full stop.

She didn't cry at her own wedding, fuck's sake. So she's wondering why there's a sudden boulder of feelings in her throat as she stares at Dustin sitting on the wedding table in front of the reception clutching his wife's hand.

Dustin is grinning darkly and staring back.

Mark remembers Kirkland and the way Dustin's hands are probably too clammy but he really doesn't give a fuck as long as he's sure you're clutching back.

"Dus—" she chokes out and tries to cover it with a cough. It fails. She tries again but no voice come out except for a frog-like croak.

Fuck her life.

"You'd think all those speech and conversational lessons I made you take somehow made even a small impact in your life," she hears Chris mock whisper on the table in front of her. Mark sends him a look that says she's flipping him off with her mind. It was enough to calm her down though, just like Chris probably knows it would.

"Well, most of you are my employees so who gives a—" she notices Dustin's small cousins and her son sitting on Eduardo's lap on the chair beside her. "toy. You know how bad I am at speaking in public." _And private_ , Chris whispers. Loudly. Everyone in the room laughs.

Mark resolutely faces away until she's only facing the table and no one can see her expression but Dustin and Lisa.

"You two. Don't— I don't even understand how but you two clicked. Lisa, you are the most mature person I know. Please don't hesitate to ground Dustin once in a while, he's a giant man-child. But—uh, but—take—" fucking _granite_ in her throat. "take care of him, okay? He's—he might look like he doesn't get emo, but he does and he's— Dustin. Lisa, I'm… thankful you made the move otherwise you'd be waiting _for life_ because he is as emotionally constipated as I am. And I—" oh god. "Dustin's my best friend and I know him a lot so I get very protective of him and, uh, if I had seen that you don't deserve him or vice versa but mostly if I had seen that you don't deserve what Dustin can give, I would have stopped this wedding but you're great with each other. You balance each other out. He has disgusting habits, don't judge him for that… all the time. He has a weird thing for dinosaurs but that's… him. I'm sure you know it already. I just— just love each other, I guess? I know you love each other and—"

Mark glares at Dustin.

"Dustin, you asshole." She starts crying.

Fuck

her

life.

No, really.

Fuck it with a chainsaw.

"Dus— I love you. A lot. If you use that against me, I will use it against you too. But Dustin— you're always—you've always been there. For me. And sometimes I feel like I never made you feel like I'm always here for you too. But I am. You're my best friend. You'll always be my best friend. You know me longer than Wardo knows me and you—you're the first person who—"

Dustin ignores all sense of decorum and leaps over the table before running to where Mark is and tackling her into a giant hug. Mark may or may not be clutching him back as tightly as he's clutching her.

They're weeping into each other's arms during his wedding. Beautiful.

"This is the weepiest we've been to each other oh my god" Mark mutters, voice a little horrified but not planning to let Dustin go anyway. The mic picks up on it and it's probably picking up on all the sniffles they're making because they hear the crowd laugh.

"Marky Mark, I love you so muhuhuhuhuhuch."

She steps back a little and doesn't bother to hide the Niagara Falls still shooting out her eyes.

She thinks about the Dustin who asked her to move in the suite. Thinks about Dustin staying at Shay's and giving her his jacket. Thinks about Dustin coaching her out and making sure she's okay and being there when Mark managed to piss everyone off. Thinks about Dustin who broke up with Alice because Alice said something honest about her. Who tucked her in at the house they rented in Palo Alto. Thinks about Dustin who enthusiastically helped her change Tommy's diapers. Who bought Tommy his first faux laptop. Dustin who was, still is, and will always be around, considering all the ways he's proven to be the only consistent person in Mark's life since that day they were partnered off at freshman year.

"I love you too, Unca Dusty." then she leans over to the mic and looks at Lisa in the eye without letting Dustin go. "This man-child's your responsibility now. If you need anything of blackmail material over him, I'm the one to go to." Dustin laughs but doesn't stop crying on her nape. Mark clings on his wrist around her waist. "Take care of each other. Don't go to bed angry unless it has a promise of angry sex. But don't let go of each other. Dustin's got—he's very loyal but he can be frustrating but he's loyal. He doesn't—give up easily on things other people would give up on. So don't give up on him."

Lisa laughs but her eyes are brimming with tears as well. She mouths _I won't, I promise_.

They give each other a thumbs up. Mark wipes her face on the lapels of Dustin's suit and tucks her face in his neck one last time and whispers quietly enough that the mic won't pick up on it. "Thanks, Dustin. For everything."

Dustin gives her a blinding smile. "You too. I love you, hey. This doesn't change anything."

Mark lets him go and sits next to Eduardo, holding his hand for the rest of the night.

  
 ** _Chris_**.

  
When the state of New York decides to be another decent state where humans get to practice their human rights, Mark finds herself tackling Eduardo to the bed and rubbing her crotch against his.

That obviously leads to a round of sex.

Eduardo's phone rings on the bedside table not an hour later. Mark knows who it is without checking.

"He asked me to marry him," someone who sounds very much like Chris chokes out in lieu of greeting. Mark puts it on speakerphone.

"Well, _obviously_. But why are you on the phone instead of having celebratory sex?" Dustin. Mark blinks. Oh. Right. Three way calls. Eduardo slides to where Mark pulled herself up and puts his head on her shoulder.

"I hate to say this but I'm wondering the same thing." Eduardo.

"You bitches. I'm the only unmarried one, let me enjoy the only proposal in our circle that didn't have unwarranted laptop-breakage and role-reversal."

Mark sighs and twists so that she can cover her tits with the duvet. "We had celebratory sex in your honour, don't worry."

"Us too!" Dustin chimes in. Mark can hear Lisa groan exasperatedly from somewhere far.

Chris makes a disgusted sound. "You heterosexuals are predictable"

"I agree." That's probably Chris's soon-to-be-husband. "What are we talking about?"

Mark tries not to roll her eyes. "Is there a point to this communal phone call?"

"Well, we're getting married." Sean chimes in helpfully.

" _Obviously_."

"Later." Chris.

"Later?"

"Yeah, in the morning."

Dustin croaks. "But it _is_ morning."

"So can you make it tomorrow at 9AM? As our witnesses."

Mark squints at the clock on the bedside table. "Chris, it's three in the morning. It takes four hours to get there."

"What's cooler than a billion dollars?"

Eduardo groans. "Can we not—"

" _My private jet_."

Mark hates her life. "Yeah, _fine_."

"It's on gate eight. Waiting for you so it can taxi away to New York Citaaay"

"You're fired," Mark spits out. " _From my life_ "

"Can we get back to having sex now?" Sean.

Mark throws her hands up. Eduardo seizes the chance to cup her boobs

"Yeah, so, you have an hour to get ready," Chris says a little breathlessly. There are some smacking sounds. Mark wants to smash something. "We'll meet you at the city hall."

"I hate you" Mark mutters out, disentangling herself from Eduardo and already thinking of wearing the most obnoxious clothes she can find.

"Whatever, _jealous_. See you in five hou—uhhhhhhh hoursssssss"

Mark punches End Call so hard, her finger probably left a dent on the touch screen. Eduardo chuckles on her neck and bites her skin.

  
—

  
Obama is there.

"Marcella!" He greets cheerily as Mark, Tommy, Dustin, Eduardo, and Lisa stumble into what seems to be the president's office in New York's City Hall. It's probably not nice to glare at the president who just made one of your best friend's dreams come true but Mark's only human. "Michelle says hello. She's sorry she can't come. She said you look beautiful in Reader's Digest cover though."

Mark can't believe she's on first name basis with the president.

"Uncle Chris!" Tommy yells, making a beeline to where Chris and Sean are standing.

"Hello, little guy. How you doin?"

  
—

  
They stand and watch as Chris gets married to Sean.

Dustin cries unashamedly then launches himself at Obama, thanking him for being real life Batman. Lisa looks proud.

"Yo Tommy boy, this is Unca Barack," Dustin introduces his pseudo-nephew to the president who then kneels down and extends his hand. "Hello, Small sir Saverin, Nice to meet you."

"Hack!" Tommy greets back, leaning over and giving the president's forehead a kiss.

"Hack means hello in the Zuckerberg household," Chris chimes in helpfully.

Eduardo splutters out in disbelief. "Excuse me, I'm feeling emasculated here."

"Marcella and her Zuckerbergs." Obama smirks then pointedly nods at each and every man in Mark's life. "Accurate. High five little guy!"

Tommy jumps up to reach the president's palm.

Mark doesn't understand her life.

 _end_.  



End file.
